Married
by diamondwine
Summary: (Sequel to Merry? Marry?) The moments leading up to Loki's wedding day.


Massive Attack's _Dissolved Girl_ starts up and fills the silence between Loki and I. He clutches my hand a little bit tighter and rests his lips on my forehead. He doesn't mind the way I tiredly trip over his feet every now and then. His bare feet are smooth under mine, and I stop putting effort into drifting in circles and simply rest my soles on top of Loki's feet, let him make all the moves. He sighs and the other arm finds its way securely around my waist, so I'm in both his arms comfortably. We have been listening to a myriad of songs all evening for the prospective playlist for our wedding. Another three minutes or so pass before Loki decides that he's tired of slow dancing around my bedroom, and he stops where he's standing in front of my window, pinning me against it, causing the Christmas lights that are hanging there to frame us like a dim halo in such low lights that I can see perfect shadows in his visage as Loki tilts his head down to gaze into my eyes. James and my sister have gone out for dinner; they had invited Loki and I to come along, but he wanted to celebrate our engagement alone, with me (it's the first night all week that we have a chance to be completely alone in the house). I couldn't have been against the idea, as my mom and my little sister are out at the Kwanzaa party my aunt is throwing, and my dad is at a pub playing pool with friends, or wherever it is that he disappears to for half-days at a time. It has been three days since Loki Laufeyson proposed to me, the moment I knew my life would change forever, and as Loki makes his way slowly down my body with taunting kisses, I can't help but revel in the weight of the diamond on my ring finger as I brush my hand through his soft, onyx hair. As the music floods the air from the player on my cell phone sitting on the bureau, I disagree with the lyric that _passion's overrated anyway,_ because it's the deepest feeling I've ever felt with any one person at any one moment in time. He looks up at me with those mesmerizing verdant eyes, and I already feel threadbare, despite the fact that a pair of Santa pajama pants are clinging to my legs and I'm shivering in a deep maroony-red tank top, the colour of which people always say looks nice on me when I wear it. My bare feet sweat on the smooth, cold, and clean hardwood floor of my room; I never walk on it with outside shoes because of my neat freak, germaphobe tendencies, something Loki wasn't bothered by when I insisted he take off his shoes before setting foot in this cold, blue room. My breath catches in my throat when Loki yanks at the waist of my pajama pants. He pulls them down slowly, allowing the backs of his knuckles to run deeply into my skin, and I let my head fall back against the window, sighing as Loki kisses my knee lingeringly. I feel him exhale against it and nearly lose my mind. He squeezes the back of my knees, causing me to lose balance where I'm standing. _There is a man that live next door…in my neighborhood. In my neighborhood_… The music sounds drunk like I feel as Loki runs his hands up and down my legs. Part of me fears that if I open my eyes from what feels like a heavenly dream, I'll wake up to find him gone, and realize that the past year and a half has simply been the best dream I've ever had. But when I hear his voice, I am relieved.

"Look at me, dove," Loki demands lowly. His hands pause, cupping the backs of my knees firmly. I look down to find the hunger of a rabid wolf in Loki's eyes. For a moment, the desperation there scares me, but I caress his hair out of the neat way that he had slicked it back this morning with gel, so that a lock dips against his cheek.

"Hi," I say shyly. Loki smiles. I can practically hear the _thump, thump, thump,_ ringing in my ears as my pulse quickens. Loki kisses the spot just below my belly button, pushing my shirt up a bit, and never breaking contact with my eyes. He pauses and rests his hands on the cold window behind me, trapping me in place. Despite the way I shiver against the pane, I know that Loki barely senses a dip in temperature.

"Do you love me?" he asks honestly, tilting his head to the side. As a response, I push back on his shoulders lightly and kneel so that I am looking up into his eyes, cupping his face in both my hands, my Santa P.J. pants keeping my knees and shins warm from the cold floor.

"That's not a question, Loki," I say, brushing his cheekbone, "That is a fact." He smiles as I pull my thumb along his bottom lip. He takes it into his mouth without warning and sucks on my thumb rather harshly, closing his eyes. He holds my wrist in both hands, taking the digit further into his mouth, sitting back on his heels, and closing his eyes with a moan of pleasure. I can't help but laugh at him. I feel his teeth lightly when he opens his mouth and smiles. He licks my thumb, and I double over cackling.

"It's not funny," he says with false sternness, but I know he's stifling a laugh himself by the look on his face.

"I'm sorry. It's _very_ sexual, Loki. I'm completely turned on," I say sarcastically. Loki grips my ass in a flash, after applying a slap to it. I jump, which causes me to fall into his chest.

"Mmm," he moans, catching me, "You've got to be the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," he says. At this point, I cannot stop laughing for the life of me.

"Shall I have some more?" Loki asks, pulling my hair gently out of the tail it's in. He starts to lower me to the floor, which is cold, so I gasp and shiver, even more when he slips my shirt and bra off.

"Loki, my bed is right there—"

"I want you on the floor," he says with the familiar dominance that causes me to get aroused.

"That piece of old junk is too short for me, anyway," he adds, pulling me towards himself and planting a long kiss on my inner thigh. My bedroom door is wide open, and for a moment I panic, before remembering that we're the only ones home. I push my hands through Loki's hair again and he is gone from me suddenly. I start to sit up. When I look, I find him hastily unbuttoning his shirt before pulling it off. He doesn't take his eyes off of me as he strips to his boxer briefs, and I would have sworn for a moment that it was a sideways plantain in his underwear. I grin at how easily aroused Loki gets and he blushes for just a second before throwing his jeans clear aside and out of his way. Loki reaches for my underwear, and I watch his eyes flit back and forth with anticipation, a smile lining his lips as he slowly exposes me to the air. I feel every hair on my body rise as he exhales a teasing chilly breeze across my womanhood. I arch my back before Loki even touches me. With a suddenness that is almost violent, he pulls my knees up so that my feet rest flat on the floor before diving headlong between them, his grip on my thighs rendering me unable to move my hips. I bite my tongue out of fear now that the neighbors will be the ones to hear us as Loki's tongue glides between the lips of my suddenly throbbing quim. I grab for his head and I know that I will completely undo his hair style, causing it to get curly with my hands, which grow clammy with sweat. Loki wastes no time in spelling out his each and every sultry desire with that silver tongue. I start to damn near convulse and find myself up on my elbows, hips undulating, stammering gibberish that even in my thoughts makes no sense at all. Loki pauses and I feel like I've hit a wall at high speed. He smiles up at me from between my legs.

"Do you love me?" he asks. I tug on his hair, falling back on the floor to find that the spot where my skin was pressed seconds prior is damp with sweat. I lift my waist upwards desperately, gasping, my body still reeling from his touch.

"Y—y," I stammer, incomprehensibly. Loki starts again and this time, I just about sit up on my bottom, so he yanks my hips towards his face to make me lie back down.

"I love you—I love you—I—I—!" I start to make these odd noises that sound somewhere between a scream and a moan. Loki sucks at the sensitive bulb that exists solely to pleasure my entire being. I claw at his head, quickly losing control of my own movements. My hips are shaking and his tongue is spiraling in figure eights.

"St—st—" I stammer, beginning to sit up. Loki attacks my clitoris again, and I scream at long last, prying at his fingers. He looks up at me in amazement and stops. I collapse to the side, where he catches me and I start to push his hands away, barely able to even make this simple motion. Loki lets go as I lie in a fetal position, my whole body literally trembling, like it does when he goes down on me. Loki sits beside me patiently for a handful of seconds.

"Time out," I finally breathe and close my eyes. I feel him pick up my upper body and rest it in his lap. He strokes my hair and I literally cannot move for a solid two minutes, save to breathe. He runs the cool back of his hand down my cheek and laughs under his breath, and the only thing I can hear then is the music in the background as the album replays itself.

"Calm down. Shh…shh," he says soothingly. It takes me a full three minutes before I am able to sit up and face him again. I slap his chest playfully, feeling my cheeks flare up when he licks his lips and smiles like he's just won a gold medal.

"I've been dying to do that to you all week," Loki admits, "you go absolutely insane. I can't get over the way you react to my touch, pet," he says with a type of intrigue that I never hear when he speaks of anything else. He cups my face firmly in both hands.

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." My heart is skipping beats as Loki slowly leads me to my back again, planting a kiss on my chin. He grabs my hand and leads it slowly down his body, so that I caress his skin.

"Do you see what you do to me?" he breathes in a voice that is itself an aphrodisiac. I can feel how hard he is, and as I wrap my fingers around his girth, I can't even meet the tips of my middle finger and thumb. Loki begins to pull off his underwear as I tug him and cause him to moan desperately. Before he attempts to enter me, he gazes down with compassion.

"Can you?" he asks, and I know he figures that after that whole paroxysmic episode, I am completely spent. I nod and Loki lets some more of his weight down on me. He takes his hardness out of my hand and glances between us, struggling with an impatient grip for a short four seconds before finding my entrance. I immediately roll my head back and start to bite on my tongue as not to make more noise than necessary. Loki grunts in an upheaval of delectation, his eyes pinching shut a moment. His stomach slowly meets mine when he rests down on his arms on top of me.

"The heat inside of you…" he breathes, giving a light push of his hips to invade more of my wet depth. Loki shivers, "melts me," he says, sending my spine tingling from the base up, as if I'm some kind of thermometer that has struck its limit, and my mind is the mercury blowing out of the glass. Had I not known him very well, I could have mistaken Loki's moans for utterances of pain, but he is simply overwhelmed by the way my insides clench all around him in attempts to accommodate his length and width. He gives a firm, slow, greedy thrust and I gasp beneath him. I grip the mounds of his firm ass in my palms and squeeze with appreciation. I no longer feel the usual coldness of my bedroom; instead, the sweat builds beneath my armpit and tickles my skin as a drop of perspiration seeps out. Loki pauses to steady himself, his eyes rolling closed as he moans again. I drag my nails up his ribs and he becomes cool to the touch, his skin slowly growing a pale blue. It takes me by surprise when I feel coldness inside me. I grasp his arms. The irises of Loki's eyes are a sanguine red when he looks down at me again. The heat all over me is suddenly relieved by his Jotunn form. He pushes on my left knee, both of which I realize are clinging to his sides. His stomach is freezing against mine, yet I find it comforting as he leans down to kiss my forehead lovingly. I brush his hair back and let my hand slide down the intricate markings in his skin. When I press my hand to his chest, steam visibly evanesces off of him with a _hiss _sound, and he grins.

"Part your legs, bunny," he says, breathing against my forehead, the way he always does. My legs shake and the cold dissipates from my knees as I let them fall to the sides a bit. Loki's thrusting is frantic, and I can't find a way to move in time with him from the way the pleasure paralyzes me stone still on the floor. I start shivering then; Loki slowly shifts back into his familiar human skin, which doesn't tickle me with coldness, but as a result, there are droplets of water all over our naked skin from the steam my heat had made against his coldness. I can't even hear the music playing anymore because we're both moaning too loud. The only other sound I can make out is the _slap, slap, slap_ of Loki's flesh against mine. Every cell on my body craves him, from the inside out. I grip Loki's shoulders, wrapping my arms around the blades and squeezing, beckoning him to fuck me raw, to a point of bliss that is quickly approaching me again. I look around in shock when the top of our heads hit the wall, as we've effectively migrated across the floor in our frenzied movements. Loki pauses, laughs completely out of breath, and backs up a bit, taking me into a sitting position where he pins me against my bed for the rest of the session. I grab his shoulders and he looks down at me with eyes that seem almost demonically possessed with carnality. We are literally wet with water, sweat, and the cum that starts to drip from between our bucking hips. I don't wonder later where the bruises come from. We are desperate and high on pheromones. If I stayed super glued to his body in this manner for the rest of my days, I could not have complained. I feel myself start to contract with each outward pull and expand with every inward movement as Loki thrusts, the telltale signs of an orgasm. Loki's mouth falls open with anticipation as we ride this out and I practically raise the dead with my earth shattering climax. He grabs the bed behind me and pulls so tightly that the sheet tears beneath his nails. I bite tenderly into the side of Loki's neck to quiet myself, enjoying the grunts and groans, expletives flooding out of his mouth in uncontrolled ecstasy. He keeps saying my name with relief, grunting with the fervor of an intense tennis player. We stay like this for a number of minutes, Loki's forehead pressed to mine, as I massage his hair repeatedly and kiss his lips feverishly. When he catches his breath and mine has returned to normal, I sigh with satisfaction.

"Bunny, you will make the perfect wife, and I will personally see to it that you never go unsatisfied," Loki says, and I can't help feeling shivers all over my body. He squeezes my hip affectionately before pulling out. The chill begins to return to my wet body. Loki grins and stands, offering both his hands to help me up.

"Are you cold?" he asks, pulling me into his arms and rubbing my back. I nod.

"Let's go take a shower and eat," Loki says. I start for the door after a nod of agreement, but the sound of my little sister, grumbling in her teenage way as she comes up the stairs, stops me in my tripping tracks. I can hardly walk straight. Before she reaches the top of the stairs, Loki rushes forth and closes the door to obscure us, his long arms spread out across it as if he's trying to convince me not to leave the room.

"First thing tomorrow, I'm helping you pack, and you're moving in with me."

I can't help but feel some embarrassment as Loki opens the dark blue box beneath my window sill. Inside it are a myriad of books that I have half-read, most of them Wicca books from my closest friends, as well as my framed G.E.D., old journals I've filled with self-vacillation, and a painting of a sparrow I copied from an Audubon Society magazine for an art class my senior year of high school. I know that the laugh I hear pouring out of his mouth is the one that means he thinks I'm cute. Nonetheless, I rush over and pull a copy of _Simply Palmistry_ out of his hands. He ignores me as I try to close the box and reaches for the red foam bird, which I think might be an Iiwi, and is the mascot for a veterinary school of the college that visited my pre-med club as an undergrad.

"You wanted to be a vet?" Loki asks, squashing the stress ball beyond recognition in his fist, standing up and holding his hand far out of my reach when I try to take it from him. I sigh and give up; I'm not tall enough to reclaim the bird.

"No, actually. The lady said she ran out of the medical school's mascot, so she just brought us their veterinary school's as souvenirs," I admitted, putting my hands on my hips, unable to hide my sheepishness. Loki cups my chin and laughs lightly.

"Don't be flustered, love, I was merely admiring some of your things," Loki says, letting his arm down. I take the bird and put it back in the box before capping it closed with the lid.

"It's just…old stuff that we don't need to go through right now," I admit. Loki grips my waist when I stand up straight again.

"Are you sure about moving in with me? I've been meaning to ask. I don't want you to feel any more stressed out than you have to," Loki says, tucking some hair behind my ear. It's true that after he proposed in the mall a few days prior, I told him on the ride home that I didn't want to break the news to anyone else until after my sister's wedding. I knew that as soon as I got off of break and back into the swing of school, I'd be _way_ too stressed to even think about planning our _own _wedding while still worrying about the rehearsals for my sister's. Loki lowers his voice and leans down so I can hear him, "If you're worried about having space from me while you study for exams, I'm going to be spending plenty of time in my studio for the next few months, so I won't be in your way. If it's because you're worried about what you're dad is going to say about our engagement—"

"No," I say with finality, stopping him right there. I smile honestly, "No. I just know that if I tell my mom this early, she's gonna want to do some double wedding or some nonsense to cut the cost. I'd rather not spoil my sister's wedding, and I want my _own_," I admit. Loki grins.

"Well, my queen, you can have the carriage from Cinderella, if that's what your heart desires. I'll give you whatever it is you want," he says, an honest look in his eyes. I know he means it, and I also know that Loki's taste is opulent, but the décor of our wedding is the least important thing to me.

"I don't need all that expensive stuff. All I want is to have a good time, some people I care about to witness, and you," I say honestly, pressing my face into Loki's chest. He holds me tightly.

"I'll marry you in my backyard—I don't care—so long as it happens," I add. Loki sighs and kisses my head.

"Whatever you want. _Anything _you want," he says, "Although I don't think a backyard will do, and certainly not yours. No offense, honey, but my extended family is quite large," he says, and I find him grinning when I pull away to look up at him. I smile, and Loki smiles, and we are standing there like two oblivious idiots until someone knocks on my door. I glance over to ask who's there as Loki busies himself kissing my temple and cheek. James's face comes into view, and his muddy hair sways in the breeze from the floor fan that I turned on to let dust fly out the windows. His ochre brown eyes curl up with a smile.

"Uh, hey, guys. I was just wondering whether you wanted any help packing up," he says. My sister walks into my room in her socks and places her hands on her hips, looking around at all of the clothes piled halfway to the ceiling on my bed.

"If you wouldn't mind helping me move boxes into my car, that would be great," Loki says politely, pointing to the cardboard folds leaning against the wall that he bought at a Home Depot before I woke up this morning.

"Definitely," James responds enthusiastically.

"I've actually called my brother to come over in a bit and help. He has an SUV, and I'd like to make this trip in one shot," Loki says, eying my clothes, which neither he nor I can believe had ever fit into the tiny closet in my room.

"I'm willing to help drive anything over, too," James grins, nudging my sister with his elbow.

"I thought you said you were adopted. I didn't know you had a brother," he says, starting some friendly chatter with Loki, who smiles and nods before asking James about his siblings.

"Yeah, my family is pretty big. I have four brothers and a sister," he says, picking up a flat cardboard box and bending its folds to make it packable. Loki does not seem fazed by this fact, and it occurs to me that I have not met his extended family, or biological parents, for that matter. I make a mental note of some questions I want to ask him later when we're alone again. Loki lets go of my waist and starts unfolding the boxes with James, and somehow their conversation drifts into something about long distance running, while my sister makes her way to my bed and asks me what I want to fold first. Everything about her fiancé has passed my test of worthiness, and I joke with her comparing our engagement rings for a minute. She tells me that Loki and I should have gone with her and James to the new Japanese restaurant they tried out last night, because the inarizushi was, "Unbelievably delicious!" and part of me wishes we'd gone.

"Or did you guys just want to have sex while no one was home?" she whispers, fighting a laugh, but mine comes out loud, and so she laughs knowingly. Both Loki and James look over with individual oeillades and say simultaneously, "What?" my sister and I just shake our heads and laugh.

Loki's blonde, blithe, brawny brother easily carries my step ladder (which Loki unsuccessfully tried several times to convince me I wouldn't need anymore with him around) and places it on top of the boxes piled high in the trunk of his car, the seats having been folded down to give even more room. A good majority of my belongings fit comfortably in Thor's van, leaving only three boxes and four suitcases to fill Loki's back seats and trunk. My sister and James take the clothes I refused to fold away because I didn't want to worry about them wrinkling, along with all my shoes, a crate of books, a hamper of clothes that need washing, and the floor fan. Thor assures me he'll make a second trip for my bureau, seeing as Loki doesn't have an extra one at his place, and I dissuaded him from the idea of pointlessly wasting money to buy an entire new one for me. My mom wouldn't let up about how much more economical it would be just to take the one I've been using since I was fourteen, which is still in relatively good condition, save for a missing knob on the first drawer. I know from the look on Loki's face that I'll still end up with a second bureau, regardless of what anyone says, by my birthday in February. When I stand in my empty bedroom with my hands on my hips, looking around as Loki massages my shoulders, I can't help but feel my eyes brim.

"Is that everything, baby?" he asks a third time.

"What about my mattress?" I ask.

"I'll throw it out for you," he says, and I laugh, knowing he hated sleeping on it during the visit. He spins me around, and there is bad surprise on his face when he sees that I'm crying; I'm crying, but my mouth is smiling.

"What's wrong?" he asks, cupping my chin and wiping my eyes.

"…I'm sorry. This is too soon, isn't it? I should have known," he says apologetically.

"No!" I say honestly, gripping his chest. I wipe my eyes.

"I just can't believe I'm moving out of my parents' house. I used to complain about living here so much, people messing with my stuff, but now it's finally happening and I don't know how to feel…like, I'm happy. I'm going to be living with you. I'm just going to miss my mom," I admit, more tears running down my face. Loki pulls me closer into an embrace.

"We're only about an hour or so away. You can come home as often as you like, there's no reason why you can't," he says reassuringly, kissing my forehead.

"In that case, I better leave the bed," he says. I laugh again.

When all of my belongings are sitting in the massive apartment-like home on top of Loki's art studio, I sigh and sit on the couch, exhausted.

"I know," he says, reading my mind, scanning the boxes for the one labeled _bedroom_ to begin unpacking. It isn't that I've never spent the night at Loki's, but I know that living here will be an entirely new experience.

"My brother will be right back with your bureau, then you can put your clothes away," he says, kneeling and ripping the duct tape off one of the boxes.

"Okay," I say, "I just need a little break," I sigh. Loki laughs as I lie on his light beige sofa that still looks newly upholstered. But the next thing I know, I'm out like a light. I know that Loki doesn't bother to wake me up because I wake up there on my own to the smell of onions, peppers, and garlic cooking in the kitchen nearby, and it's dark on the other side of the windows when I sit up to look out them, a thick thro blanket falling off my shoulders gently. There are two empty champagne glasses on the coffee table, and the channel 5 news is on mute on the large flat screen TV embedded in the beige wall. I yawn and stand up, starting towards the kitchen, and as I walk, I notice that Loki has taken off my shoes and left me in my socks. I smile at the thought of him kissing me on the forehead while I dream.

"_At last_, she's awake," Loki says, his back still to me as I stand quietly in the doorway of his kitchen where he's chopping Portobello mushrooms to add to the wok of sizzling vegetables on the stove. I inhale deeply and use a potholder to uncover the brown rice he's made. My stomach growls. Loki smells fresh and minty, and I note that he has changed into a comfortable pair of black and white flannel pajama pants and a slate grey t-shirt that clings to his frame in a way that makes me want to nuzzle my face between his shoulders. I do just that, creeping up behind him and folding my hands over his crotch. Loki laughs, leaning back into me from the counter.

"That's for dessert, sweetheart."

I kiss his shoulder blades before walking to the cabinet for a glass. I notice the pile of cardboard packing boxes near the trash that are meant for recycling.

"Did you unpack _everything_?" I ask in amazement.

"You should've woke me up so I could help you," I say, leaning against the refrigerator and positioning my glass under the filtered water dispenser.

"It was no trouble," Loki admits, glancing over at me between chopping, "Your sister stayed and helped me with your clothes. She was very precise, so I'm sure you'll find everything exactly where you want it to be," he adds, carrying the chopping board to the stove where he empties the chopped mushrooms into the wok and stirs for a bit.

"I love you," I say before quenching my dry throat with fresh water. Loki washes his hands at the sink and dries them on a dish towel before extending his arms to me.

"You look tired," he says, "That's why I let you sleep." He embraces me lovingly before kissing my forehead.

"I think I'm going to shower," I say.

"Of course. I put some of your toiletries in the bathroom already. If you need anything, let me know," he says before we kiss and I walk out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. Loki's house has always intrigued me. It's almost like an apartment, but ten times more spacious, and he doesn't have to share it with anyone else. There is a second floor with four more empty rooms and a main sort of hall, which he mostly uses to store paints and art supplies, and a basement for the same things below the studio, which also serves as an event gallery and shop. As I turn on the lights to find that a hot bath is already awaiting me, I feel like I can get used to living with Loki. The water is still steaming as I take off my clothes, finding that he already set up my flip flops and a fresh towel, as if he'd known I was just about to wake up and want to freshen up. He didn't use magic too frequently, but when he did, it was often to do something for me. I know that this is the case as I slip into the heated tub, bubbles still frothing the water with a hint of what I think is lavender or chamomile. I have to be careful not to slip back into my sleep in the tub, and I run the water after draining the bubbles to wash my face and rinse off the suds.

Loki is holding my purple vibrator when I make my way to the bedroom. I nearly drop the bottle of shower gel I'm carrying. He doesn't bother to look up at me; he simply shakes his head disdainfully, closing the drawer with his knee. He turns the sex toy in his beautiful slender, long, pale fingers.

"L-L—"

"Am I not enough, bunny? Why would you need this monstrosity?" Loki asks, turning to me a bit sullenly. I hide the nervous smile that had started to spread across my face when I saw what he was holding.

"You know, one of my favourite hobbies is pleasuring you. Apart from a good prank, there's nothing I enjoy more than giving you orgasms. Am I not enough satisfaction?" he asks me seriously. I frown honestly.

"_Of course you are_! I—"

"Then you won't be needing this anymore," he says, smiling, starting towards the trash in the corner.

"Loki—don't!" I shout, nearly screaming. Loki pauses and seems a bit startled. He turns slightly where he's standing, in time for me to bump into him and snatch the vibrator away just as he lets go of it and it starts for the waste basket. His eyebrows rise in disbelief.

"It's just a toy, Loki. Plenty of women have boyfriends and still use them. It doesn't mean I'm not satisfied with what we've been doing," I try to explain calmly. Loki stands akimbo and a displeased look washes over his face for a moment.

"You've been hiding that thing well," he says, and I feel the blood rush to my face.

"I didn't see it at your parents' house earlier, and I never saw it while unpacking here…It must have been with your pajamas, which your sister was unpacking. I only came across it because I was doing that load of dirty laundry you brought over."

I turn away then. Loki grabs my wet arm before I can store the vibrator back in the drawer. I hear him kiss his teeth, then laugh lowly, seductively.

"I just wish you had told me about it. It wouldn't have surprised me so much," he says. I feel him press his index and middle fingers deeply into my spine, right below the nape of my neck, an erogenous zone that he knows makes me weak. Slowly, he rubs his fingers in circles, his right hand still firmly locked on my arm.

"I'll let you keep it if you show me how it works," he says in this absolutely morbid, carnal voice that causes heat to swell between my thighs and I immediately begin to grow wet. Loki steps closer to me and I watch his pale arm swoop around my body until I feel his chest against my back. His voice touches me when he speaks again.

"It bothers me that you would need an inanimate object to satisfy your urges when _I'm_ right here. You know that I would do anything you want me to, if only you ask," he says, speaking into my ear, his unchaste tone becoming a bit more serious.

"It—it's not like that, Loki. I promise. Sometimes I just need to take care of myself. Don't you ever touch yourself when I'm busy at school?"

Loki sighs, but I know that he knows I have a point. He has a tendency to be jealous and compete, _a lot_, another thing I have swiftly learned about his personality.

"Fair point," Loki sighs hastily, "I just like to think that I'm the only thing you need to get off." My ears are on fire, and even further when he presses his lips on the right one.

"But really," he says, turning me around to face him then, "I'd love to see what you do to yourself. Perhaps I could learn a thing or two," he says, smiling widely. I glance down and away, smiling shyly. Loki grips my chin and forces my gaze to his eyes before kissing me.

"If it makes you feel any better, I've only used this about once a month since we've been sleeping together," I say, eying the elastomer toy in my hand.

"Hmmm," Loki says pleasantly, "How about it, then, pet? Show me how you take care of yourself."

"…Maybe another time. I just showered," I say, my thoughts running back to the growling of my stomach.

"Alright. I'll hold you to it," Loki says. He lets me go and I store the vibrator in the back of my drawer where Loki had found it. He continues folding clean clothes on my bed while I get dressed.

Despite currently living with Loki, I feel that I stop seeing him nearly as frequently, as I have taken over the second floor of his home with my biochemistry and anatomy textbooks, my weekly physical chemistry study groups, when anyone decides to show up and study with me. A study buddy and I lock ourselves away in one of the vacant rooms for four-hour periods with flashcards that review the concepts we have long since forgotten from general chemistry on acid/base reactions that have come back to haunt us, and textbooks on enzyme kinetics that I sometimes wake Loki up reciting the lines of in my sleep at night. Loki and I stop having sex on a weekly basis because I am so scared of failing my next physical chemistry exam that I can't stand to spend any waking moment _not_ studying. Before dinner most nights, I lock myself in the bathroom and cry thoroughly, stuffing a towel into my mouth to muffle my worries, spraying natural tears eye drops into my eyeballs when I'm finished, so that as I sit across the table, studying in my head while Loki talks about the urn he's almost finished with, he's none the wiser of my maddening stress; he thinks I just look tired.

He doesn't say so, but I know that my somniloquies begin to bother Loki to the point that I find myself going to bed alone while he paints down in his studio, and I wake in the mornings to find his arm sleepily strewn across my middle before dragging myself to classes. Nearing the end of January, the new year does not feel new to me at all; I'm still the same high strung mess of anxiety that walked into Loki's shop a year and a half ago on a day of rare spare time to pick up painting supplies. I have never been too good at drawing and painting, but after my first medical school exam, I pampered myself by doing my nails and realized how calming I found repetitive stroking motions to be. I met Loki because I was looking for a way to cope with my stress. As I stand in the hot shower on a Thursday morning, I steal a moment to reminisce how tongue-tied I was the first time he asked me whether I needed help finding anything. I still remember his hair slicked back, much shorter than it is now. I was so nervous that all I'd said was, "Paint." I had meant to grab brushes, an easel, too, the works. I'd paid hastily, dropping my debit card stupidly while this beautiful, tall, pale, raven-haired man waited patiently behind the register for me to get my shit together. I had left and looked down into my new bag of watercolors to realize I'd forgotten everything else. I still remember the face palm, and the way I kept trying to decide whether or not to go back, deciding I would look like such an idiot if I did, before turning around again indecisively a block away from his store. That is why I kept coming back, to pick up all the supplies I meant to get the first visit. I almost scream when I feel Loki's arms pull me in closer to his naked body. I hadn't even heard him come into the bathroom. He plants a kiss on the nape of my neck.

"I miss you," he says, kissing my shoulder. And I miss him, too, but I am too terrified for my latest upcoming exam to let his fingers roam any further down my waist. I can't concentrate while the fear of failure dangles over my head. I stop Loki and turn around. He kisses my lips and I dip to the side.

"I'm sorry. I'm going to be late. I should've been out of the shower five minutes ago," I say regretfully, pulling Loki's arms from around my waist. I watch him turn his face to the wall and close his eyes with a disappointed frown as his black hair plasters to his face under the showerhead. It has gotten to be past shoulder length, and for a moment, I stare at him before forcing myself out and into a towel to get dressed.

When I come home, I find that Loki has left a green Post-it note on the door, telling me he's out with Thor for the evening, and that I shouldn't wait up for him. I feel a bit of relief as I hurry up the stairs to our living quarters and plop down onto a tall chair at the kitchen counter to cry anxiously. I become so tempestuous that I start choking on my own spit, clutching my chest and griping out loud. When I finally calm down, I am so glad that Loki wasn't around to witness this and worry about me. I don't want him to think I'm not happy, but I also know that he might actually be starting to think so by the way he tilts his head with that curious look while I cut the same tomato in my salad for five minutes straight during dinner.

"My brother's getting married in June," he finally says, breaking the silence.

"Oh," I say with some surprise. Suddenly, everyone seems to be getting married.

"Wants me to be his best man," Loki beams, but his eyes are hesitant and watchful of me as I look up at him from my plate. I grin and don't say anything.

"You're going to be my date, I take it?" Loki asks.

"Are you asking me out?" I ask, smiling for a few seconds.

"I didn't want to just assume," Loki says seriously, "Will you be done for the semester by then?" he asks. I wipe my mouth.

"I need to check my schedule," I respond. Loki props his chin on his palm and stares at me for a few seconds.

"What?" I finally ask.

"Are you okay, Cleo?" he asks. My heart bounces. Rarely does Loki use my actual name. I sit up very straight.

"If it's about the shower this morning—I was just late. I didn't mean anything by it," I blurt out. Loki pushes a hand through his hair and sighs.

"I just feel like I haven't been seeing you—_at all_, which doesn't add up, in my opinion. Not now that we're living together. Whenever I'm here and you're not in class, you're always upstairs studying," he says, gazing skywards a moment, and I don't doubt that he sees through the ceiling to all of my textbooks and flashcards tornadoed across the floor, "Torturing yourself with biochemistry. You don't come down unless you have to eat or sleep. I can't help noticing that, even though I've been busier interviewing to get more staff for the store…I feel like," he begins, his voice growing cautious, and my pulse quickens, waiting to hear what he has to say. I am honestly scared.

"Lately, everyone around me is getting married, but I can't even spend more than five minutes with my fiancée," Loki admits, and I can't ignore the disappointment in his voice. I feel negligent and selfish all of a sudden. I can't shake the feeling that Loki is more upset than he lets on, even though his mouth is simply a straight line and his eyes look at me across the table blandly.

"I'm here right now, aren't I?" As soon as I say this, I wish I hadn't. My lack of nightmare-free sleep is giving me a short fuse. Loki takes a deep breath before continuing, ignoring my flippant response.

"Your birthday is coming up next Tuesday. I was hoping we could have a _real_ night together, if not for my sake, then at the very least yours. The things you've been saying in your sleep are starting to scare me," Loki says, and I know he's dead serious, "You need to take a load off. I'm sure one night won't kill your grade," he adds. I know that he's right. I lose my appetite, leaving only a quarter of my plate finished. I reach for my cup of caffeinated tea, which I've been drinking more frequently than my regular caffeine-free herbals.

"Look, dove, I'm not trying to stress you out further, I'm trying to _de_-stress you. I'll take you out to dinner anywhere you want. Just name it. We can go out dancing or something," he adds lovingly.

"…I want to stay in," I decide, stirring more Splenda into my cinnamon tea.

"It's a date," Loki says. I smile across the table at him before finishing the mug and taking my plate to the kitchen to put the leftovers away. As I stand at the sink washing the dish, Loki's arms snake around me again. He kisses my neck and shoulder, and I can't help but lean back into the warmth of his chest a moment as I scrub curried lentils off my dish. I sigh.

"I just miss you a lot," Loki says, and I shiver. His kisses intensify in hunger as I rinse the plate and set it in the dish rack to dry. I rinse the suds off my hands and close my eyes a moment. As he begins to press his hand into my jeans, I start to back up. I can already see the disappointment on his face before I turn around to cup his cheek.

"I have to study for this quiz I've got in the morning. I don't feel prepared," I say. Loki doesn't bother to respond to my excuse, despite knowing how valid it is. Instead, he goes into the cabinet for a container to store the rest of our leftovers.

"You're not going to fail, Cleo," he says. I know this is true, but it never quells my fear of it being a possibility. Loki knows how much I have always prided myself on doing well academically. It had taken so much effort just to find a way _into _medical school; I wasn't going to risk flunking out. Feeling kind of like crap, I rest my hand on Loki's shoulder. He doesn't react to my touch.

"I'll make it up to you," I promise, standing there a moment as he continues to shovel lentils into a Rubbermaid container with a wooden spoon. I then grab my water bottle off the counter and replenish it before returning upstairs to my books for the night.

Tuesday the fourth arrives, and I find myself sitting in the front row of a lecture hall, trying to hurry up on my biochemistry exam. It is nearly eight-thirty at night and I know I only have approximately thirty-three more minutes before I have to hand in my exam. When I leave and walk out into the cold February air, I have completely forgotten that it's my birthday, until I turn my phone back on to find that my mom has left me a voicemail congratulating me on turning twenty-six, two missed calls, and a few texts from Loki. I gasp, realizing that I am three hours late for my birthday dinner. The first text I received at five o'clock when I was sitting in the library with my friend studying some last minute notes: _Can't wait to see you!_ The second text message was sent at six-fifteen: _Running a bit late? :)_, the third message at seven: _Where is my beautiful bunny? Dinner's getting cold…_ and the last one was sent at eight fifty-three, exactly seven minutes before I had the freedom to turn my phone back on: _:( _I actually start to hate myself as I hurry to drive back to Loki's. When I come up the stairs, I can hear Loki's voice on top of Gavin Rossdale's in the den.

"_Bad moon wine again! Bad moon wine again!_" I can tell from the sheer volume of Loki's singing that he isn't sober, and I'm not surprised when I drop my bag on the floor and walk around the corner to find him lying on his back on the hardwood floor, his legs still resting on the armless sofa, with a bottle of red wine clutched tightly in his pale fist, the half-full bottle we'd had for over a week also empty and sideways under the coffee table.

"…I needed you more, you wanted us less," he sings along, and I almost want to laugh, but I can't when I realize the salience in the music that he must be perceiving in our relationship status. When I come around to the iHome sitting on the coffee table and shut it off, Loki opens his eyes with surprise and looks around frantically a moment. His green eyes look like they're swimming in his skull as I stare down at him. I can smell the Indian food I said I wanted, and when I go into the kitchen in a few minutes, I'll find that Loki didn't even open the containers yet. I attempt to pick up the neck of the wine bottle from Loki's fist, which proves to be difficult to do when he doesn't let go, sitting up uneasily with it instead and yanking it back. He glares at the wall.

"Where were you?" he asks more clearly than I had expected him to be able to.

"Taking an exam," I say honestly, slowly kneeling to sit in front of him. He inches back away from me and closes his eyes, pinching the space between them.

"You kept saying _six o'clock_," he says, not hiding the pent up frustration in his voice.

"Remember this morning? Remember _yesterday_? You said you would take a night off—for once. Is it me? What do I have to do to get some attention? I've only been making sure you're as comfortable as possible, but you haven't sat down and _talked_ to me in four weeks," he says, his voice louder than what feels comfortable considering how close to him I'm sitting. My brain is aching and I can still see Fischer projections when I close my eyes; the last thing I need is Loki yelling at me about my responsibilities, my dreams, which require heavy schoolwork. His eyes are heady with alcohol when he finally focuses his gaze on me.

"I'm going to bed," he says disinterestedly, standing up and pulling the bottle into his mouth again simultaneously, nearly losing his balance. He walks past me with a chilling breeze and doesn't even say happy birthday. I sit there and listen to him walk down the hall and close the bedroom door. While I feel stupid for managing not to realize my biochem exam started at the same time as we'd scheduled to have dinner, I can't help feeling angry that Loki just completely didn't seem to care. How could he think that I would intentionally make that mistake? I _had_ been looking forward to spending a night talking about our future and eating whatever I wanted, giving Loki my undivided attention, but I find myself crying angry tears instead. I catch a glimpse of the ceiling, where Loki has set free a number of purple (my favourite colour) helium balloons that were supposed to be for me. My phone rings with perfect timing and I pull it out of my coat pocket to see that my sister is calling me. When she says happy birthday on the other line from New York, I can't help but feel a bit better. I tell her all about my exam, and she tells me all the answers she would have also given when I explain a problem that I remember eidetically, hoping I got it right. Despite the fact that we can't be together, we celebrate our birthday via Skype, and I wave at James whose lap my sister is sitting on when I answer the video call, eating cold naan and dipping it into a sauce that I always like the taste of, despite not knowing what it's called. When my sister asks me where Loki is, all I tell her is that we had an argument and I'm not talking to him. It is getting late and by midnight, I tell my sister I have to sign off and go to sleep to make classes tomorrow. She wishes me goodnight and I go get ready to sleep. This is number six of the arguments Loki and I have ever had, and I know so because I've been keeping track since the first one. We have never fought very badly at all, and usually over stupid things. I start to think that it may have been better when we weren't living together, when our time spent together was restricted to some weeknights, and weekends only, when the absence made our hearts grow fonder so that all time spent together was spent kissing and talking about our hopes and dreams. When it was like that, we never had the chance to really fight about anything, considering how much less time we were spending together. Despite telling myself not to, I cry while I brush my teeth, and forget about bothering to get into bed, where Loki is out cold and spread out like a giant tree, the empty wine bottle sitting on his nightstand. I grab some blankets from the closet and go to sleep in the den on the couch. When I go to school the next day, I try to forget about last night, but it bothers me all day. I am glad that I finish early on Wednesdays, and when I come home at one-thirty, a tall red-headed man eyes me curiously when I start to look about the store for a new paintbrush, knowing that Loki won't make me pay for it. During my lunch alone at a Subway, I decided I wanted to start painting again to relieve my stress.

"Can I help you, miss?" the redhead asks, finally having stalked me through enough aisles. I haven't spent time in the store for over two weeks, and everything appears to have been rearranged, so I have no idea where the fan brushes I like to use have gone. He's a cute looking man, a little bit shorter than Loki, his hair combed over in that 60s Greaser sort of style, with a devilish smile that makes me blush for a second.

"I'm just looking for fan brushes," I say honestly, starting down another aisle.

"Follow me," redhead says cordially. As I traipse after him, I start to feel like I've never been to the shop before. I literally bump into his back while looking around dumbly, not realizing he'd stopped walking. I feel a pair of unfamiliar hands steady me, and my eyes make contact with his nametag.

"Oh, gosh," I say stupidly. The redhead smiles down at me.

"Thanks, Noah," I say mechanically, reading his name tag. He laughs and I stand up straight as he lets go of me. He gestures to the myriad of paintbrushes before us.

"These ones are sort of light weight. What were you thinking of painting? I might be able to help you choose a good brush," he says. It becomes clear to me very quickly that Noah is trying to put the moves on me as he leans against the wall and sticks his chest out a little further, stands up to his full height. I shake my head in confusion for a moment, forgetting how to string together the words "I," "am," and "engaged".

"What's your name? Do you come here often?" he asks casually, tilting his chin at me.

"She _lives_ here, actually, and she's my fiancée," Loki says warily, appearing behind Noah with a box of supplies. Loki cocks a brow as the salesman jumps in utter surprise and turns around to find his boss giving him a stern stare.

"Oh—uh—Mr.—" Noah stammers before Loki cuts him off somewhat impatiently.

"Make yourself useful and go replace the canvases I told you to fill five minutes ago," Loki says, shoving the box into Noah's arms. The young man apologizes genuinely and hurries away with cheeks that match his hair colour.

"That wasn't necessary," I say, reaching for a paintbrush. Loki grabs my hand rather harshly before I can even make contact with the brush's stem. He pronates my left hand and the anger is clear as day in his hung-over eyes when I look up at them.

"Where's your engagement ring?" he asks me. I gasp, realizing that I must have literally forgotten to put it on. Subconsciously, I must have meant not to. Loki glares down at me, and I can see dark circles under his eyes. He looks like he doesn't feel well, and I picture that empty bottle of red wine sitting on his nightstand upstairs.

"Don't be so mean. I simply forgot to put it on," I say honestly, but my subtle anger is still noticeable when I speak.

"Right," Loki says apathetically, walking past me. I can't take it anymore. I rush after him and find him behind the counter where he pulls a bottle of Advil out of his pocket and dry swallows two pills. He doesn't even acknowledge me when I stand there with both my hands on the counter top. He pulls a half-full quarter roll out of the register and starts shoving more into it, cursing under his breath when he drops a couple of coins on the floor. He disappears behind the counter to pick them up, and still neglects to look at me standing there, getting angrier by the second.

"You're being a huge jerk," I finally say. Loki closes his eyes a moment and sighs.

"Cleo, _don't_. I have a headache, and you're making it worse. Just go study, or something," he says carelessly. My eyes sting with hurt that I didn't expect to feel at his words.

"I'm _sorry_," I whisper fiercely, after the bell above the door tolls and a new customer walks in. Loki sends whoever it is a pleasant smile before letting the grim expression resurface once he continues counting quarters.

"I wasn't trying to be late—I completely forgot that my stupid biochem exam was the same night. I didn't even remember that it was my _birthday_ until you woke up to tell me that before I left yesterday morning," I say honestly, my eyes streaming. Loki doesn't even spare me a glance. He stops with the quarters and slams them into the register with frustration before walking swiftly away to the storage room, where I don't bother to chase him down. It is the first time he has ever just walked away from me like that. I can't stop crying as I walk up the stairs to our home to take off my clothes and wrap myself in the quilt on Loki's bed. I hate the way it smells like wine as I wipe my eyes on the sheet beneath my head. We don't speak again for two whole days. It is Friday night when I am sitting on the couch watching TV by myself. I decide that I'm bored and I don't want to sit lazily on my ass all night. I remember the paintbrush that I didn't even pick up on Wednesday, and go downstairs to get one in the store. As I push open the door, I find Loki leaning in a bored manner against the counter. I start right past him without saying anything, but I'm stopped before I make it clear past him; he grabs my arm across the counter.

"Okay, I've had enough," Loki says, breaking the silence between us that has lingered for days. I stop and stare at his hand on my arm. When he lets go and starts around the counter, I try to dodge him unsuccessfully a number of times, before I stomp my foot on the floor and stop, my face falling into his chest. I cry there and he holds me, apologizing for being a prick, making me spend my birthday night alone. A wave of relief washes over me.

"I miss being able to kiss you and hug you," Loki admits with tired eyes, around which the dark circles have gotten worse.

"We haven't been spending any time together. It really pissed me off that you were three hours late. I just felt like I put so much effort into that night for you, and you didn't even care. I know that doesn't excuse me for being an asshole on your birthday. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm sorry, bunny." I wipe my eyes and Loki leads me around the counter and pulls out a fresh box of tissues from the cabinet behind him. He opens it and dabs at my eyes with one as I perch on the stool standing there. I take the tissue from him and rub my nose dry.

"I'm _sorry_," I say, meaning it, "You know that I have to work hard. I know it's been taking a toll on you, too. I wish I didn't get so stressed out so easily, but I do, and it makes it too hard for me to relax. I _can't _relax thinking about all the shit I have to study for…I just…" I get lost midsentence as Loki massages the back of my neck and caresses my hair while I sit there. I let go with a very deep sigh that feels like I'm finally taking a real moment of pause.

"It's okay. It's mostly my fault. I thought you moving in with me would mean I'd get to spend _more_ time with you, but like I said, we barely see each other with all the time you spend upstairs studying, if you're not in class. I guess I just started feeling neglected. It's not your fault, bunny. I know how important it is to you to do well. I know it's the only way you're going to meet your goals, and I would never try to stand in the way of that. I hope my attitude didn't ruin the rest of your week," Loki admits. When I look up at him, I stuff my hand into his pocket and smile.

"I forgive you."

In May, my sister's wedding day has me feeling happier than I have in months. Loki stands beside me near the altar, gripping my hand as James and my sister exchange vows. He leans in toward my ear, "That's going to be us soon, bunny," he whispers, before kissing the shell of it. I shiver, and when I find myself wrapped in Loki's arms on the dance floor at the reception, I can't help feeling closer to him than I have in months. Finally, things are starting to reach a plateau with my studies and I will have some time off during the summer, which Loki and I have already agreed will be spent catching up with each other and planning our wedding. After I don't participate in the traditional bouquet toss my sister does with all the ladies, both my parents are shocked when Loki and I announce our engagement, but they turn out to be happy about it, which makes me feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Loki looks so good in his black vest and lilac shirt that I still remember him picking out back in December, the day he proposed to me at the mall. I start to feel relaxed and careless as I rest my head against Loki's chest. He breathes deeply against my hair and we find ourselves not wanting to part when the music picks up again to a faster paced song. Loki stares down at me before scanning the room to find that we're the only couple still clutching each other on the dance floor, aside from my sister and James.

"Do you want to go home?" Loki asks. Many guests have already gone, and I can't help noticing the odd twinkle in Loki's eyes as he repetitively stares at my sister and her new husband. I have to say that he looks nearly jealous. He kisses my forehead lingeringly.

"Don't worry, our day will come soon enough," I say easily, rubbing his chest.

"I want to go home so we can make love," Loki says frankly, and I finally take the hint as he smiles down at me.

"Let's say goodnight to everyone," I say. Loki follows me with a sturdy grip on my hand, and I hug my sister for the longest time before Loki starts to pry me away from her, the two of us laughing. Outside, Loki rushes me to the car in the parking lot. I start to laugh, and almost trip, my heel popping off.

"Wait!" I say, laughing and slipping my hand out of his grip. He reaches down and helps me back into my heel, gazing up at me longingly. Before I can take another step, he picks me up and carries me to the car impatiently. I laugh and play with his hair, which is in a neat bun at the back of his head.

"We need to get _home_," he says desperately, pulling his keys out of his jacket pocket after setting me down carefully. His eagerness arouses me and I don't bother to wait for him to open the door for me on the passenger's side. He keeps staring at me in my bridesmaid dress as I un-tape the junk holding my boobs in place inside the strapless gown. At a red light, Loki looks at me with absolute ravenousness as I recline my chair, smiling at him as I place my bare feet on the dashboard, my dress falling back down my leg to reveal my underwear. Loki cocks a brow when he realizes I'm wearing the red thong he'd picked out months ago when we were in Victoria's Secret. I had been waiting for the right occasion to wear the uncomfortable thing just for him, and as he reaches with a nearly shaky hand for my thigh, the car behind him honks their horn. Loki jumps slightly and glares through the rearview mirror, flashing a pale middle finger as he steps on the gas. I almost trip again as Loki leads me up the stairs to our house. He pushes the door open after unlocking it and lets me step inside. I barely put my heels and purse down before he wraps me up in his arms from behind and starts kissing at my neck and shoulders wildly. He carries me this way to our room and lets me kneel on the bed. I stand up on it and bounce, turning to find Loki hastily stripping his clothes. I laugh at his impatience and jump up and down, the gown bouncing mellifluously with me. He throws his tie carelessly and kicks off his shoes. I watch him strip naked in front of me.

"Come down here so I can love you," Loki pleads. I stick my tongue out at him and continue to jump up and down. He watches me for a handful of seconds before grabbing my waist and pulling me down off the king-size mattress. I reach behind his head and set his shiny, thick onyx hair free, positioning it picture perfectly around his shoulders, where it hits the middle of his arms.

"I need a haircut," Loki remarks. I blow teasing winds at his cheeks and he pushes his hands under my arms before pulling my dress down until it's sitting around my feet on the floor. He kneels there and gazes up at my body.

"Holy shit," he breathes, reaching up to cup my breasts. I giggle and realize I must have had a bit too much champagne. Loki pulls the thong down my body slowly, his eyes just about watering with need. He grabs my hips and pulls them down to make me sit before pressing against my chest to make me lie back, and then I know exactly what he's going to do. I feel Loki's breath against my entrance, where he kisses me roughly and I let out a moan. He pulls my waist towards himself and pushes my legs apart. He laps at me madly, and I gasp when it feels freezing cold. I look down to find Loki in his Jotunn form, something that takes me by surprise for a few seconds in my buzzed state. He licks my opening roughly before slipping his tongue inside, humming against me, which makes my head spin with pleasure. I start pawing at his hair and he grins against my sex with satisfaction.

"_Cold_!" I grumble. As Loki laughs, I feel his hands warm back up when he shifts again into his human mask. I sigh with relief. Loki flicks at my sensitive flesh and I start sitting up, shaking. He doesn't stop until I am writhing on the bed. I lie on my side in a fetal position, overwhelmed for a few seconds before Loki climbs on. I muster all of my strength and start to inch away from him across the unmade bed. He laughs at my feeble attempts to regain composure and I feel him pull my body towards him, pulling my legs apart before leaning over me. He cuts my break short with an abrupt assail of his fingers. I gasp and squirm, mumbling gibberish as he slides two fingers inside me where I am already a sopping wet mess. I know by now that he doesn't intend to give me a break as I struggle to breathe and undulate my hips shamelessly while he summons up a second orgasm, thumbing my clit mercilessly. I can't even speak as I curl up, trembling, my voice lost in my choking throat as I experience one of the best orgasms I have ever had. When I can move again, I clutch Loki's wrist, dragging his hand out from between my legs. I lie flat on my back, sweating and panting, and he doesn't leave me be. His lips all over my neck, trailing down my chest don't allow my heart rate to slow. Loki moans and I pull handfuls of his hair mindlessly, losing the ability to tell up from down.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are when you have an orgasm," he says, dipping his tongue into my navel, making me quake. In truth, I had never known the gravity of this capacity until I met Loki. His touch left me physically and mentally impaired in a pleasant way, if that makes any sense at all. I am taken by surprise and gasp when he enters me with his rock hard erection. I dig into Loki's lower back as he throws his waist like a crashing wave between my thighs, moaning and leaning up on his arms with a catlike stretch. His chest heaves and I touch it all over with fascinations as his eyes sear down into my soul. He plows again roughly, causing me to shift across the bed a ways. The buzz wears off, and I feel as sober as ever as my legs quake beneath Loki's body.

"Valhalla is being inside of you," he says, gazing down at me with an ardent expression that makes my eyes water. I can barely hear my spent voice when I tell Loki that I love him. He smiles and leans down to kiss me for what feels like at least five minutes, before continuing to move his hips again. We are a mess of sighs, moans, and tears of joy for the next ten minutes. When we're done, we lie in bed, caressing each other's cheeks and kissing, the sound of cars passing by in the streets below paling to our senses in comparison to the afterglow we both feel.

"I think that was the best sex I've ever had with you," I admit, drawing my fingers for the fifteenth time down the center of Loki's nose before tracing his lips. He kisses my hand.

"We've been needing it for weeks," he adds, and I think back to the busy all-nighters I've pulled, Loki walking around his shop in zombie mode, hosting spring-themed dinner parties and showings in the gallery for new artists. He smiles.

"I've been thinking of putting some furniture upstairs where you study, make it more comfortable," he says, drawing his hand slowly down my side and pausing at my hip to massage it. I am busy braiding his hair.

"What are you doing?" he laughs, closing his eyes.

"Shh, I'm almost done," I say, starting on the other side, until he looks like a raven-haired Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. I start to laugh uncontrollably once I finish the second braid. Loki glances to the left and then to the right at my creation.

"Yeah, I'm getting that haircut," he says, shaking his head and destroying the braids, laughing at my childishness.

"You may now kiss the bride," the priest beams. Loki takes advantage of the Kodak moment and pulls my veil back as he reels me into his arms and leans me backwards, nearly to the floor, before planting his lips on mine in the moment that I will remember decades later as the happiest in my entire life. Though my eyes are closed, I can see the flashing of cameras and hear the laughter of my best friends, who are clapping a few feet away from Loki and I. On our flight to Antigua, Loki looks a bit nervous and I pull his hand away from his collar to stop him from messing up his tie. Both of us are sleepy, but we had planned to have a morning ceremony in order to leave earlier for this flight.

"I'm gonna coat you in sun block, baby, don't you worry," I say, kissing the back of his hand. He laughs. It will be Loki's first time in a tropical setting where there's a lot of sun, and though he had expressed some worry about getting sunburnt, he wouldn't let me change my mind and decide to go to Ireland instead, because he knew I did not really want to spend our honeymoon in the chilly north.

"SPF one hundred," I add, and he smiles and rests his head atop mine.

"Did you like my wedding gift?" I ask, gazing up at him.

"Of course. It's _beautiful_, bunny. Just like you," he says. I can't get his wide smile out of my head as I picture him opening the gold pocket watch I gave him after dessert. It was custom made and I had his and my initials engraved inside it. Loki pulls the watch out of his blazer and checks the time before planting a kiss on my temple. I know that it's elegant, with an antiquated air, precisely Loki's style. My wedding gift is this trip, which Loki has already paid for in full, and I can barely contain my excitement.

"Although, I think my gift has a part two," he says, and there is a hint of mischief in his voice that I haven't heard for some time. I look up at Loki and tilt my head to the side.

"I got you something else?" I ask honestly, not remembering what I apparently added to his present. The flight attendant arrives with the wine Loki ordered us both, and he thanks her kindly as she compliments my wedding dress a second time. Loki waits until she is out of earshot, handing me my glass.

"You never did show me how you pleasure yourself, bunny," he says, the slyness in his voice still causing me to feel nervous after all this time. I smile shyly.

"I packed your vibrator. You still haven't shown me how it works," he says, taking a sip from his glass, and I know that I will not sleep a wink on this trip.

"You have no idea what you're in for," Loki says sexually. All I know is that I can't wait to get to our hotel.


End file.
